


All The Truth Unwinding

by Mack_the_Spoon, Namarie



Series: Bloodlines [7]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, F/M, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 19:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4192155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mack_the_Spoon/pseuds/Mack_the_Spoon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarie/pseuds/Namarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the truth about Liz and her parents is revealed, Liz, Ressler, and Red are forced to go on the run - and their enemies are not far behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. As Conspiracies Unwind

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct continuation of our "Bloodlines" series. If you haven't read those stories yet, you can find a master list of the order of the stories [here](http://namarie24.livejournal.com/120242.html).

~~~~~~

 

At least Liz had been able to be back on full field duty after her shooting for more than a month before it all hit the fan, she thought later. Her arm and shoulder were all but back to normal, although she had lost a little bit of her range of motion on a long-term basis, if not permanently. But it was enough for her to be able to wield a gun, write, and, most importantly, fly. Any small adjustments she had to make apart from that were not a big deal.

Unfortunately, though, she wasn't going to have a lot of time to enjoy her return to normalcy. Her father's mental voice roused her one night, at what seemed like just a few minutes after she and Ressler had gone to bed. _Lizzie, Donald, you have to get up right now. The Justice Department is about to mobilize the Post Office, among others, to arrest Elizabeth Keen for treason._

“What?” Her brain needed to process this faster than it was working at the moment.

_It's time to enact our contingency plan, Lizzie. Right now. Dembe will be there in five minutes._

She sat up and flipped on the bedside table lamp. The grogginess was quickly driven away by adrenaline. “Come on,” she said to Ressler.

Her phone rang as she stood to grab her duffel bag from the closet. She didn't recognize the number, but something told her she should take the call, anyway. “Agent Keen, it's Harold Cooper,” came the familiar voice, although she didn't think it had been his number on the screen. “I don't have much time. If you and Reddington have a plan for what to do in case the Justice Department finds out about your relationship, you need to put it into place right now.”

“I know,” she said. “Sir, are you safe?”

“I'll be fine. Does Samar know? I doubt they would do anything other than question her, but she should be informed. I've convinced those involved in this that I had no idea, but the FBI knows you're Reddington's daughter. They said there's more to the story, as well – more than enough to convince them you're a traitor.”

Liz swallowed, turning on the bedroom light. “Are you sure you're safe, sir?”

“I can handle myself. You take care of you, and your people,” he said.

“I will, sir,” she said. “If you do need me... I'll try to find a way to contact you.”

“Fine,” he said. “I've got to go. Be careful.”

“You, too,” she said, and hung up. She had already dug out her overnight bag from the closet. Making sure her partner could hear, she called, _Samar? Red just contacted me. We've got to go. We're blown._

Ressler let out a breath beside her, and then he reached for his own bag and pulled it out. “I assume Cooper said he's safe?”

She nodded, quickly pulling off her sleeping clothes and changing into something more appropriate for being on the move. “I hope he's right.”

 _My people have told me the FBI will be at least another fifteen minutes,_ came Red's voice, almost calm.

Liz tried not to freeze at that reminder. She didn't want to think about what they were doing. She didn't want to think about the FBI now being something she wasn't a part of – not that anything could be completely official yet, but still... She shook herself, and went into the bathroom to grab the few necessities she wanted. _What about you, Samar? Cooper said he was pretty sure you would be questioned, but they might leave you alone other than that._ Samar's thoughts were that she'd rather disappear, report back to Mossad, and see how things go from there. _So you want to hitch a ride with us first?_ Samar agreed and said that she'd wait a few blocks from their building.

As she waited for Ressler to collect the several weapons he was going to bring, Liz remembered one more person she needed to contact. _Whitney,_ she called, and winced when she could tell the young woman had been asleep. _I'm sorry to wake you. I need to tell you that my father and I won't be around, for at least a little while, after tonight. Neither will Agent Ressler or Agent Navabi._

She felt Whitney's surprise. _You're leaving. Is it because the FBI found out?_

 _I'm afraid so,_ Liz said. _But I'm not planning to disappear for good. I wouldn't do that to you, or the rest of my organization._ She saw that Don was ready, and the two of them picked up their things and went toward the door. _I'll update you when I can, or someone will. Be careful, and if anything happens at all, call me – this way. Maybe I'll be close enough._

“Ready?” her partner asked, solemn.

“I guess we have to be,” she said, and they walked out the door.

~~~~~~

Liz lasted until she, Ressler, Samar, Dembe, and Red were all on Red's jet, preparing for takeoff. It was just before midnight, and they were safe. They had avoided the net of agents set to trap them. But as the ground fell away, Liz felt the grief she had been pushing aside rise, stronger and more intense than she had been expecting. All her mental preparation for this moment was useless in the face of the real thing.

And despite his sureness the handful of times she had asked, she couldn't help feeling that not only had she just effectively killed her old life, but she'd destroyed Don's, too. Even if they were able to return safely anytime soon, the likelihood that either of them could ever be federal agents again was nil. Of course, on the other hand, the thought of him deciding not to come with her didn't bear thinking about. Not that the selfishness of that realization made her feel any better.

“Hey,” said Ressler quietly from the seat next to her. “We'll be okay.” He took her hand.

She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. Then she took a shaky breath. “Will we?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I know we will.”

Shaking her head, she sniffed. “If I weren't so selfish, I wouldn't have – you wouldn't be here, about to become a fugitive from the people you work for. You should still have a future with the FBI, and I –”

“Liz,” he interrupted her, squeezing her hand, “stop. A future with you is what I want. I've told you that before. I mean it.” He met her eyes squarely. “And the more you doubt that, the more it feels like you're doubting me, like there's some reason you can't trust my decision or my commitment.”

She looked down. He had a point. “I'm sorry. You're right. I guess I'm not being fair.” She inhaled again, slowly but with less of the panic and guilt. Then she looked up again. “Just to be clear, no matter how guilty I might feel, I can't bring myself to actually wish you weren't here.”

“Good,” said Ressler. He stroked a hand across her cheek. “Because I'm not going to say I have no regrets, but this is where I want to be.”

She accepted his embrace willingly, heedless of the fact their seats on Red's plane didn't give them a lot of privacy. Her only concession was to hold back her tears as best as she could. Besides, she was too tired for a crying fit.

“Reddington, can I ask where we're going?” Samar asked quietly, a few minutes later.

Liz looked up from her seat to where her father was, a couple of rows away. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought to ask that question.

“My pilot has been instructed to land in Guatemala, first. We'll regroup and plan our next steps there.” It was the first time she had heard him speak tonight, Liz realized. “We should be there in less than four hours.”

Samar nodded. “Thank you. For taking me, I mean.”

Red's smile was brief and didn't reach his eyes. “Of course.” He stood and went to where Liz and Ressler were sitting. “Lizzie, I'll let you and Donald sleep for the rest of the trip, but I'd like to talk to you privately first, if I may.”

Liz sat up and ran a hand through her hair. “Okay.” She stood up and walked with him to the back of the plane, where they sat, now at least a few yards away from the others.

He cleared his throat. “I feel like I should apologize, Lizzie, except I know there are no words that would make this less difficult for you.”

His pain was obvious, and Liz suddenly wondered if he might not be thinking back to the first time he'd had to leave everything behind and start a totally new life. She shook her head. “Red, you're not to blame for this. I suppose you could have chosen not to come into my life at all, and then we wouldn't be here – but then you would have been leaving me to figure out about dragons all alone, with no idea what was going on.” She sighed. “And I don't want to think about how much worse that would have been.”

“No, I couldn't have done that to you,” he said hoarsely. “And it's useless to speculate on how else you or I could have acted before this moment, anyway. But I am sorry, for what little it's worth.”

“I know,” said Liz, and put her hand on top of his. “And it's not worthless for you to say it.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Besides that, I also wanted you to know that a number of my people will stay in our territories for the time being, to look out for our interests. That includes coordinating with your people to keep watch on Harold and your Ms. Lam, among others.”

“Good,” said Liz. “I was able to warn Whitney that we were leaving, but I wasn't looking forward to just letting her fend for herself.” She had assumed that they wouldn't just completely pull up stakes all at once, but it was good to have that confirmed.

“All right,” he said. Then he paused again, and she realized that his face was pale and drawn. “I'm afraid there's one more thing I have to tell you. No doubt you will be angry, and your anger will be justified. Please know that this is a secret I've kept because I hoped to avoid just this kind of situation occurring, and I believe if I hadn't kept it, you would have been arrested long ago.”

Liz's heart started to pound. “What are you talking about? Another secret – about me?”

“About your mother, specifically,” said Red. “Somehow – through someone connected to the Cabal, I'm sure – the Department of Justice learned about both of your parents at the same time. Or perhaps they already knew, and simply decided to act on the information all at once.”

Liz sat down quickly. It was hard to breathe, suddenly. She had assumed that the reason Red hadn't told her about her mother had to do with his own pain at losing his family all those years ago. And it wasn't that she now doubted that it was genuinely painful. Yet he had allowed her to think it was all that, so that she wouldn't push. “Who was she? My mother?” she asked, voice low.

“To be honest, I don't think I ever knew her real name. The alias by which I knew her, however, was Katarina Rostova. She was a KGB agent,” said Red.

Liz still found it difficult to draw a breath. “My mother was Russian?” It was just one of countless questions that immediately began to swirl in her mind.

“So are you,” he said. “Before you became Elizabeth Scott, you were Masha Rostova, of Moscow. And the FBI has just been told this information, and allowed to draw the conclusion that you are, in reality, a Russian sleeper agent.”

There was no way she was going to be able to skip the crying fit now, Liz thought vaguely. Tears were already running down her cheeks. The last time she'd been able to inhale completely already seemed like ages ago.

Red's voice was gentle and sad. “I hoped that if no one even spoke the name around you, if Katarina Rostova was left as a ghost story, that you could at least be spared that suspicion, even though it was inevitable that your connection to me would come out once your true nature revealed itself.”

Liz managed to gasp in some air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father reach out a tentative hand, and then start to withdraw it. Gulping, she stretched her own hand out and grabbed his. He was right that she was angry. But for once, his reasoning for holding back this information made instant sense to her. It was amazing how much more it hurt to know that the government she had dedicated herself to now thought that she was not only a criminal, but most likely a traitor. She pulled herself up by his hand and then put her arms around him.

“I wish I could have spared you this, Lizzie.” His arms tightened around her, and now his voice sounded teary, as well.

She wasn't quite ready to thank him for trying, but she allowed herself to stay in his embrace until she'd gotten her breathing back under control. Then she released him and pulled back, wiping her face. “Why – what could they hope to gain by making me look like a traitor?”

“I believe the remaining members of the Cabal are still pursuing their aim of another world war,” he told her. “Of course, without as wide of a reach as they once had, it's more difficult. Still, to apparently expose a Russian spy right in the middle of the Department of Justice will certainly raise tensions between the US and their old enemy.”

Liz bowed her head. So now she was to be the cause of a war, on top of everything? “But I'm not. I'm not a double agent. I – I don't remember ever even having been to Russia.”

“I know, my dear,” said Red. He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You aren't responsible for the sins of your parents. And you know my opinion of the US government, but I do believe that even they will come to that conclusion eventually. In the meantime, I don't intend to stand back at allow the world to go up in flames. That's not the way I run my business.”

That earned him a faint laugh. “You'd make it work.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “Either way, I don't want you to worry over much, and I don't want you to feel guilty about the machinations of twisted minds. Get some rest, Lizzie. We have many long days ahead of us.”

“Yeah.” She didn't know how well she'd be able to sleep after that kind of revelation, but she would do her best. And she'd have to figure out when and how to tell Don, too.

~~~~~~

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Liz thought it might have been comical. The five of them ended up approaching the hotel Red had selected in three separate groups: Dembe and Red first, then Samar by herself several minutes later, and finally Liz and Ressler. They made it clear they were a couple, and were given the key to a very spacious suite that Liz realized might be a honeymoon suite. She didn't have the energy to think about those implications.

Instead, she sat heavily on the bed and huffed out a breath. “I keep thinking this feels like some really bizarre undercover op, or even some ridiculous spy movie. And then I remember that those fake passports we showed to the front desk so we could register aren't props, and this is real. We're really on the run.” And my mother was an actual spy, she thought to herself. She would tell Ressler eventually, but she wasn't quite ready yet.

Ressler set down their bags, and then joined her on the bed. “Yeah, I don't know how much it's really sunk in for me, either. If someone had told me five years ago that I'd ever even consider going on the run in Raymond Reddington's private jet, I'd have had them committed.”

Liz rubbed her face with both hands, and then looked at him, eyes widening. “Oh my God.”

“What's wrong?”

She groaned. “I don't even know how long we're going to be here, but I hope it's not too hard to find chamomile tea wherever we're going to be next week.” She glanced toward her bag. “There's only enough for a couple of days in there.”

Ressler grimaced. “Much as I hate to have to suggest it, I bet Reddington would know where to get some more.”

Liz flopped backward onto the bed, groaning again. “Probably.”

“Hey, you want to take a shower?” Don asked, a moment later.

She hummed. “Yeah, I guess.” As much as she wanted to sleep right now, she knew she would feel better. She sat up again.

“Let me know if there's any trick about it,” he said.

By the time she was done, he was asleep with all his clothes on, stretched out on top of the bed. She halted in the doorway and smiled. It felt like a shame to wake him, but he'd be more comfortable without his shoes on, at least. “Hey. Ressler. Shower's free. And there are no tricks to it.”

He sat up and scratched his face. “Mm. Good, because I don't want to take very long.”

She reached out a hand to stop him on his way past her. “Don, you know I love you. Right?”

He turned to her, and his tired expression softened as he nodded. “I love you, too, Liz.” He kissed her. “Go ahead and go to sleep. I won't be annoyed if you don't wait up for me.”

“Okay,” she said. “Good night.”


	2. Wild and Bereft

~~~~~~

Evidently Red had decided that their escape had been successful enough to warrant a bit of a rest. No one disturbed Liz and Ressler at all the next morning. In fact, they felt it made sense to take the time and opportunity to make proper use of their lavish honeymoon suite before breakfast. Both agreed it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Such a promising start to the day – plus excellent room service – put Liz and her partner both in better moods than they had been the night before. Still, when they were both finally dressed and ready, Liz couldn't help wishing she had even a small idea of what their next move should be. “I know Red knows that if there's a way I can have a place to settle, even for something like six months at a time, I'd choose that over moving all the time,” she told Ressler. “Does that sound like what you'd prefer?”

He nodded, thoughtful. “As long as six months is safe, I'm with you on that.”

Red contacted Liz a few minutes later, to suggest that they all meet in the plaza across from the hotel. It was late morning, and Liz enjoyed the tropical warmth outside after the hotel's air conditioning. “Good morning to the both of you,” said Red, looking up from the newspaper he was reading. “I trust the room was to your liking?”

“It was great,” said Liz, and she didn't exchange looks with Ressler even though she could feel his amused glance. “Are we sticking around, or was that it?” She sat down in the patio chair opposite him.

“Dembe and I have been endeavoring to discover if it's feasible to linger,” he said.

Samar came up just then. “Well, if it factors in to the group's decision, I was planning to reach out to my contacts today and inform them that since the task force in D.C. is at an end, they can expect to see me in Tel Aviv as soon as I can get there.”

“I assume you'll be masking the source of this message?” asked Red.

“Of course,” she told him. “And, as my passport is genuine and I brought cash, I should be able to get out of the country without attracting attention, as well.” She turned to Liz. “I also plan to contact Cooper, or someone at the FBI, once I'm back. I don't know how believable it will be for me to simply say I was recalled, but perhaps it will remove a small amount of suspicion from the Post Office.”

Liz nodded. “I'm sure Cooper would appreciate that. I do, too.”

“That seems to me to be a priority, or I would offer to stay,” said Samar. “Obviously you'll need more protection now than ever before.”

“Thank you, Samar,” said Liz, a lump in her throat. “I – I wish I could say or do something more, for everything you've done for me.”

The other woman smiled. “Don't worry about it, Liz. Besides, you still have time to think about how to reward me – I don't intend for this to be the last time we meet.”

Liz laughed. “Good.”

“If there's anything I can help you with, feel free to ask,” Red put in.

“Thank you, but no,” said Samar. She looked at each of them, including Dembe, and smiled again. “Good luck to all of you.”

“Same to you,” said Ressler, who also looked and sounded emotional.

“I'll find a way to tell you if I hear of anything that you should know,” Samar added. And with that, and one final round of farewells, she turned and strode off.

Liz didn't stare after her, but she couldn't help tracking her mind until her friend was too far away for it to be convenient to keep doing so. At least she had seemed safe for that period of time. She cleared her throat. “So. Red, you were going to tell us about plans for what to do next.”

“Yes.” He nodded. “If you can bear with a few more trips before we think about somewhere a little more permanent, I would suggest we leave after lunch today.”

However, the ease with which their time as fugitives had begun wasn't to last.

It happened when Liz and Don had stepped away to take a walk through the nearest market. Liz didn't want to buy anything – not that she even had any local currency – but she did want to stretch her legs before getting back on the plane. Don agreed, and Red told them he and Dembe would follow in a minute or two, after he'd checked on arrangements for their next destination.

Don had just pointed out an extremely brightly-colored shirt and suggested he should get it so he could “blend in” when Liz felt it. She turned around quickly, but didn't see anyone suspicious. Yet she could feel that presence. It was one she now loathed even more than the first time she had felt it.

“Liz, what's wrong?” Ressler asked quietly, amusement gone, his hand on her arm.

Tense, she told him, _I know it doesn't make any sense, but I swear I just recognized Connolly. He's trying to stay hidden, but I can sense him. He's here._

In an even quieter voice, Ressler said, “Did you call Reddington?”

 _I will,_ she said, and quickly found her father's mind. _Red. I think Connolly's here. I haven't seen him, but I felt him._

 _I'm coming,_ Red said immediately. _Try to stay out of sight for the moment._

Liz pulled Ressler around the market stall to the other side. _I don't know where he is, so it's hard to be sure this is helping._

“Well, Ms. Keen and Mr. Ressler,” a voice said, from right behind them. “I'd address you as 'Agents', but that would be inaccurate, wouldn't it?”

Liz turned to glare into the smug face of Tom Connolly. He was with another man who was clearly a bodyguard, and he laughed at her expression. “Sorry to intrude on your vacation, but once my sources informed me that you were so close to where I've been spending my time, I couldn't resist.”

“What the hell do you want?” Ressler asked, before Liz could.

Connolly's guard drew his gun and pointed it at Liz. The man himself continued to smile. “Why don't you come with me, and I'll tell you?”

“We're not going anywhere,” said Liz.

The guard adjusted his grip on the weapon, and Connolly's expression darkened. “I'm not planning to kill you yet, Ms. Keen. Not that it wouldn't be satisfying, but I need you to get me back into the good graces of the group I was about to be invited into, before you and your daddy's task force so rudely knocked me out.”

“The Cabal,” Liz said. That made only too much sense. The group had been injured by Red's strategic release of some of the information from the Fulcrum, but he had assured her they were still active.

He smiled again. “Call it that if you want. Either way, taking both you and your father out won't be good enough, after the public disgrace you put me through. I have to publicly disgrace you and all of your associates, too, to make sure none of you will ever be a threat again. But we'll start with you. Come on.”

Liz couldn't see Red anywhere, although she knew he was close and getting closer. She took a few unwilling steps in the direction Connolly had indicated. Ressler started to follow.

“I'm sorry, I guess I didn't make myself clear. You, Mr. Ressler, I don't need. You're discredited enough, having fled with your girlfriend the criminal,” Connolly said, and gestured to his bodyguard.

Liz felt her whole body fill with ice, and time seemed to slow, as the man put his finger on the trigger and aimed for her partner's head. She didn't scream. Instead, her focus narrowed to that hand on that weapon, and she dove forward and knocked it aside.

It went off, but when she moved to look at Ressler, he was fine. It had missed. There was no time to be relieved, though. Ressler was already launching himself at the guard, and Connolly... Connolly was reaching into his own holster for a weapon. Liz grabbed hers and raised it. _Don't!_ she shouted, over the growing clamor in the marketplace.

Dembe and Red finally reached them at that moment. Both of them had their guns raised, too. “I'd rather not cause a stampede in such a crowded setting by killing you, but I assure you I will if you give me cause,” Red said.

Ressler had disarmed his opponent, and now stood aiming his own gun at the kneeling man, breathing heavily. “You move again, I'll take your head off.” Without looking at her, he asked, “Liz, are you all right?”

“Fine,” she said.

“Now what?” Connolly asked. “Fun as this is, we can't all just stay here.”

“No,” Reddington agreed easily. “Why don't we all take this somewhere quieter, before the police show up?”

Dembe took out two zip ties with one hand and tossed one to Ressler. With both men secured, the four others led them quickly and none too gently out of the marketplace. Liz holstered her gun, although she was still itching to hurt Connolly. Not only was this the second time his actions had endangered Don's life specifically, but it turned out he was still a threat to everyone she cared about. If he did successfully join what remained of the Cabal, Liz couldn't imagine that Cooper or the rest of the Task Force would be safe, either.

 _I know, Lizzie,_ said Red, catching her thoughts. He was currently at the rear of their little procession. _That's why we'll make sure he doesn't get that position._

She didn't look at him. _Good._ Then they heard the sirens, and she swallowed. They were close. And Connolly seemed a little too calm for her liking. _Red, something else is going on here. Connolly's not worried. He seems like he's just waiting._

“This way,” said Dembe then, not having heard her. He pulled the man in question down a side street. Liz followed, with Ressler next, dragging the bodyguard with him. Red came last.

“What do you plan to do with me, exactly?” Connolly said, turning to look toward the sound of the sirens. “I can tell you right now, you won't get anything out of me through interrogation.”

Red smiled. “Fortunately, I don't need anything from you, so I won't have to test your claim.”

Before anyone else could speak, a shot rang out from somewhere above and nearby. “Sniper!” Dembe shouted, and pulled Red down.

“Right on time,” Connolly called out, grinning again.

“Liz, we have to get out of here,” said Don into her ear. He was standing between her and the apparent source of the gunfire. Another shot rang out and he shoved her over. She felt the bullet fly past her face as she caught herself on the ground.

Pushing at him, she kept her eyes on Connolly. _He can't get away. I won't let him._

At that moment, the man met her eyes. _Just so you know, Keen, I don't need the resources of the Cabal to take down Harold Cooper and his wife. My friends and I will take care of that little issue as soon as I get out of here._ He paused. _Your protection will mean nothing when they're both rotting in prison._

Liz clenched her jaw. She didn't know what rock the son of a bitch had been hiding under since the warrant had been sworn out for his arrest, but it was clear he hadn't grown any shred of humanity during this time. Dimly, she heard Ressler say something else about getting out, and another bullet flew past, just barely missing them both.

_Where the Cabal will help, though, is to find Samar Navabi, which shouldn't take long since I know she was just here. And then we'll make sure she's sent to Iran to face charges for murdering one of their top scientists._

Ressler pulled at her arm, and she allowed him to help her up so they could run the few steps to the scant cover of a nearby dumpster. Connolly's words continued to ring in her mind. He was determined to destroy the lives of the people she cared about, who she was supposed to protect. Her gun was in her hand. She hoped Red and Dembe were more secure than she and Ressler were. They crouched, and bullets continued to fly.

 _And your little friend Aram has something in store for him, too,_ Connolly went on, relentless. _Along with whoever else I find out that you've been involved with. I hear you started a nonprofit? Well, scandals hit those things all the time._

By now, Liz could taste blood from where she had bitten the inside of her mouth. When she peered carefully around the edge of the dumpster, still crouching, Connolly was in her line of sight, although she could now see others running toward their position. “Connolly!” she shouted, both out loud and mentally. As soon as he turned her way, she brought her gun up.

“Liz, what are you doing?” Ressler said, shocked, again bending close so she could hear. “He's restrained, and he can't reach his gun. He's not the threat right now.”

Her glance flicked to him for a moment. _I won't let him get away,_ she said again, and then she focused back on her target and fired. The bullet hit Connolly in the center of his chest, and Liz knew he was dead before he had finished slumping over.

Ressler said something else, dismayed, and there was another voice talking to her, maybe telepathically. But somehow she wasn't there anymore. She was... she was in a dark room where two people were arguing. She knew those people, the man and the woman. They were her – parents? Some part of her knew that wasn't quite right, but the rest of her just knew that her father was hurting her mother and that had to stop. There was a gun at her feet. A gun would stop it.

“Liz!”

It was like her ears had popped, along with the rest of her senses. She could smell blood, sweat, and gunpowder. There were tears on her face. People were shouting, and one of them was Ressler.

“Liz, get up! We have to leave now. The police are coming.”

She stood, but swayed and felt him catch her. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. She had shot him. Shot Connolly... but there was someone else, too. A long time ago.

“Donald. Whatever you may be thinking about her actions just now, I don't care. If you want us all to have the luxury of thinking about it later, we need to get her out of here right now.”

That was Red's voice. Her father. But who had she shot, all those years ago? Now she could smell smoke, too, even though there was no fire here. “Red...? I couldn't let him...”

His mental voice was surprisingly gentle. _We'll talk about it in a minute, Lizzie._ Finally, as the distant shouts got frighteningly close, she was being pulled along at a run, down an alley. Her legs felt numb. Everything felt numb. Somehow she didn't fall, though.

Liz knew there had been a car. She didn't remember getting in, and she had only patchy memories of traveling in it. She thought Ressler tried to talk to her a few times, but the most she ever did in response was look at him. Sometimes when she looked, she saw that man again, the one who was her father but wasn't, and saw him slump to the floor. A few times, she also heard a woman – her mother – cry out the name Masha.

And then, all at once, it came over that she was hearing her father – her real father – speaking to her, urging her to listen. _Lizzie, it's time for you to come back here. Can you do that? I know you're confused, but we're all safe now, and I need you to come back._

She blinked, and realized she was sitting in a seat in Red's plane. He and Ressler were on either side of her. Her head ached, and her chest felt tight, and there were still tears on her cheeks. She took as deep of a breath as she could, which wasn't much. “I remembered. When I shot Connolly, I remembered.”

As she looked up at where Red stood, she saw a deep weariness and sadness in his face. “Do you want Donald here for this, Lizzie?” He knew. Maybe he'd seen the flashes of memory.

“I...” It was only now that the ramifications of those images began to sink in. What she had done. What she had been, for most of her life. Somehow, she knew Red must have tried to spare her from this, to keep her from remembering. And she was ashamed. She didn't want any of it to be true.

She turned to Don. He looked worried, uncertain, and maybe even a little afraid. She hoped it wasn't fear of her. Yet he was still here. He hadn't left her. And she would hurt him if she told him to leave now, no matter how personal this conversation was going to be. “It's not that I want to have secrets from you.”

His expression grew even more troubled. “Liz, you can tell me later. I know this has to do with your past. I – I guess you have some things to work out together.”

She wondered what Red had told him. “But you'll be here when we're done?”

He smiled, although it didn't erase the worry in his eyes. “Of course I will.” Then he stroked the back of his fingers across her cheek and stepped away to the rear of the plane.

Red waited until Ressler had left before sitting down next to her. “Lizzie, what did you remember?”

Liz turned to face him as best as she could. “You saw what I saw, didn't you?” He didn't answer, so she went on, her words coming slowly. “The night of the fire. I shot him. I shot my – the man I thought was my father. He was hurting my mother.”

Red let out an unsteady sigh. “Yes.” His expression had gone from sad to devastated.

Her chest felt tighter now. “Red, why didn't I know that? Why couldn't I remember anything other than the fire? Even... even you, not until I remembered about the Fulcrum.”

“I'm sorry,” he said, and the pain in his voice squeezed the vice tighter around her lungs. “I tried – I tried to make you forget. I didn't want you to carry this burden.”

“How?” She wiped the tears from her face and stared at him.

“Even as a child, you were already a dragon, of course, and therefore resistant to anyone tampering with your mind.” His eyes slid away from hers. “But as you probably already have noticed, the telepathic connection between family members is stronger than any non-blood link. And so I used that, and the fact that your mental shield was still developing.”

Her eyes widened, and she gasped. “You forced your way past my shield?”

“I did,” he said, and this time he did meet her eyes. “You were so young, and so traumatized. It was too much for you.” Each word sounded like it was being torn from him. “But I didn't want to make anything worse or take any longer than I had to, so I determined that I would focus on the worst of it, and allow your mind's natural inclination toward avoiding unpleasant experiences to take care of the rest.” Tears were leaking from his eyes now – had she ever seen Red actually cry? “Later, Sam told me that you had nightmares about the fire. However, when that was all you seemed to remember, I thought I had succeeded as much as was necessary. But I failed, after all.”

Liz couldn't speak for an entire minute. She felt disturbed and betrayed at what he had done to her. Of course she did. But it would have felt much worse if it weren't for how obvious his agony about the entire situation was. He had wanted to protect her from pain, and he had been willing to do anything. Which was a facet of his character that she had always known, right from the beginning. Her head still ached, she noticed vaguely, and she wondered if it had something to do with a decades-old mental block having been shaken loose.

“Lizzie, do you need something for your headache?” Red asked, voice still quiet and more vulnerable than he ever sounded.

“Yes. Please,” she said, and then realized that she was projecting almost everything that went through her mind, such that even Ressler might be getting some of it. And Dembe, wherever he was. Red, on the other hand, was probably getting it all. She winced and did her best to shore her mental shield back up to its former strength. He didn't need to literally continue to take her pain on himself. When she was done, she wasn't sure how well she had succeeded, but the headache eased slightly, so hopefully she'd done something.

Red disappeared from her field of vision for a minute, and returned with a tablet and a glass of water. Liz accepted both without question, swallowed the pill, and drained the glass. After she'd handed it back to him, she searched his face. “Red. I know you were protecting me. You always do.” That was as close as she could get to accepting his apology for the moment. It was all far too overwhelming for more than that.

“But I killed him. I killed them both,” she said, after a long moment, and it was real. It was inescapable. She knew why she had done it in each case, but at that moment, all she wanted was for all of this to be a dream, for it to have never happened.

“I know, my dear,” said Red, sitting down beside her again. There was no judgement in his face or voice.

She put her arms around him and closed her eyes when he reciprocated. Then, as if her speaking the words and being heard had been a release valve, she was sobbing into his shoulder. The pressure on her lungs wasn't improving as she cried and gasped. In fact, it was getting worse. By the time she pulled back, her blood was roaring in her ears and her vision was blurring.

 _Lizzie! Breathe. You have to breathe,_ she heard in her mind. _This moment will pass. Just breathe._

She didn't know if she could see beyond this moment. But maybe she could breathe. At least that. Focusing on that goal, she managed to make the grey around her vision recede and the roaring subside. Her heart was still racing, and she felt light-headed, but each inhalation was less desperate.

“That's good,” Red said out loud. He rubbed a hand over his face. Then he looked up over their seats. “If you're ready, I think Donald would like to reassure himself that you're all right.”

I'm not, Liz didn't say out loud, but she nodded, and pushed her sweat-dampened hair behind her ears. _Ressler, you don't need to stay back there anymore,_ she said, making sure Red could hear as well.

When her partner came into view, his face was pale and she could see all kinds of questions in his eyes. “Liz?” was all he said, though, in a rough voice.

She tried to summon a smile, but doubted that she'd been successful. “I guess, uh, that part of the crisis is over.” Her heart wasn't pounding anymore, at least. Red was right to that extent, although she still couldn't bear to try to think any farther than how exhausted she was right now.

“Okay,” he said, and couldn't have sounded any more unsure if he'd tried. She wondered what he had seen and heard while she and Red had been talking. And crying.

“You need rest, Lizzie,” Red put in. “I was going to go speak to the pilot, anyway.” He stood.

Liz watched him leave, her own legs still too curiously numb and heavy to contemplate moving. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to send you away.” She met Ressler's eyes again.

He didn't answer immediately, but he did sit down next to her. “Don't worry about that right now. Just get some rest.”

She exhaled, and it still could have been a sob. Then she turned and leaned her head against his shoulder. She must not have freaked him out too badly yet. He was letting her touch him. That was the last thought she had before falling asleep.


	3. Warped and Bewitched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A POV switch, plus more of the story.

~~

When the call came, the two of them put into action the plan they had created together with Reddington almost without any trouble. They were both able to grab the minimum of what they needed from their apartment in the minimum amount of time, and they evaded the FBI team that had been sent to capture them. This was even including the extra few seconds it took them to leave the apartment when Ressler had a brief but intense crisis of conscience over taking his FBI badge with him. They had worked this in as part of their plan (who could tell when a genuine badge would be useful in the future, even if it was no longer valid?), but Ressler found it harder than he had expected.

But after that wrenching moment, he was able to focus his attention on getting Liz and himself onto the plane that would take them out of the country. They made it to Guatemala without incident.

Once they arrived, though, their luck made a rapid change for the worse.

Liz and Don were taking a little walk through a marketplace before the next leg of their journey. It was nice, at first, to be out and enjoying just a quick glimpse of what the country had to offer, even if they knew they weren't going to be staying long. But then Liz grabbed his arm and told him silently that she thought she could sense the mind of Tom Connolly, very nearby.

Things started to happen so quickly Ressler could do nothing but respond, for the first part of the crisis. He didn't know how Connolly and his guard had found them, but the only thing that mattered was getting Liz out of here. If they could just get out of this market, he was sure Reddington would take care of the rest. They were armed and they weren't outnumbered, after all.

That was before there was a gun pointed at his head, and he saw Liz's expression shift into something beyond rage. He was terrified that her dive to knock aside the guard's gun would get her injured or killed – but to his relief, it ended up allowing them to subdue both Connolly and his man. Dembe and Reddington arrived at just about that moment, and for that moment it looked like they might get out of this with a minimum of disaster. Ressler disarmed the bodyguard while the rest of them aimed their weapons at Connolly. Liz was fine.

Their group led the guard and Connolly out of the marketplace, urged along by the imminent arrival of the police. Ressler didn't plan to let Connolly's guard out of his sight, although he kept a large part of his focus on Liz, as well. She was hurrying along right next to him.

Dembe, who was holding onto Connolly by his bound wrists, directed them down a side street. That took them farther away from the approaching sirens, but Ressler didn't feel easy about how constricted this space was. If something else happened... He let Liz go in first, at least, so he could watch her back.

“What do you plan to do with me, exactly?” asked Connolly then. He still seemed far too calm as he added, “I can tell you right now, you won't get anything out of me through interrogation.”

“Fortunately,” came Red's voice from behind them, “I don't need anything from you, so I won't have to test your claim.”

Just then, a shot cut through the air above them. Ressler whirled around toward its source while Dembe yelled, “Sniper!” and shoved Red to the ground. Ressler thought he saw movement on the rooftop of one of the buildings that formed the side street wall, and as another shot was fired, he grabbed Liz to bring her to the ground as well.

Liz wasn't meeting his eyes, or looking for the sniper. She didn't seem to be listening to him when he urged her to get moving. Her gaze was fixed on Connolly. _He can't get away. I won't let him,_ she said, low and fierce over the sounds of chaos around them.

They were still pinned down, but Ressler took an opportunity to return fire at the figure he couldn't quite make out against the edge of the roof. “Liz,” he yelled, “we have to get out of here now! I can't hold this guy off for much longer – I can't get a good angle on him.”

A bullet whizzed past him and her, but Ressler's next shot grazed the sniper's arm, and he fell back. “Come on!” Ressler grabbed at Liz's arm. She was still staring fixedly at Connolly, who was standing with his back against the opposite wall of the alley and smiling. But she did stand up and run with Ressler to the dumpster he knew would give them at least some cover. Reddington and Dembe were behind an odd little truck further down the alley, and they were returning fire at the sniper, as well. Crouched in front of him, Liz had gotten out her gun – but she was still focused on Connolly. He took a moment to look at her face, and he went cold. The look in her eyes... She had never looked more like her dragon self while still human than she did right now.

Shots continued to be fired on both sides, and now there was the distant sound of running footsteps coming toward them. The police, probably. Or maybe reinforcements for Connolly. Either way it wasn't good.

Just then, there was a slight break in the exchange of fire. Ressler was about to tell Liz they needed to go when she stepped around the edge of the dumpster, just slightly. She was pointing her gun at Connolly – her prey. She called out his name, and Ressler heard it in his head as well as out loud.

“Liz, what are you doing?” Don hissed, bending closer to her to speak into her ear. He wanted to grab her arm and pull her away, but he wasn't going to do that while her gun was raised to point at Connolly's chest. “He's restrained, and he can't reach his gun. He's not the threat right now.”

She barely glanced at him. _I won't let him get away,_ she repeated, in the same tone as before. Then she pulled the trigger. Connolly had time to look at her in shock before he crumpled to the ground.

“What the hell?!” Jaw dropped, Don stood up and stared from the fallen dragon to the woman who had just shot – just _murdered_ him. Liz was staring in the direction her kill shot had gone, but it didn't seem like she was seeing much. Her arms shook. She dropped the gun.

“Donald!” It was Reddington, running over to them with Dembe close behind. “We've got to get out of here, now!”

There were no more shots coming from above, he realized. Maybe the sniper had stopped once he saw that the man he was supposed to protect was dead. Connolly's guard wasn't visible anymore, either. But the police or whoever else were still coming. It sounded like they were on their way from the main street behind them. They did need to move. But his brain was still stuck on what he had just witnessed. It didn't make any sense.

“Donald, get Lizzie. Follow us. Now!” Reddington shouted this right into Don's face. It wasn't a hypnotic command, but it was sharp enough to get him moving.

He blinked and went to crouch in front of Liz. She was still staring straight ahead, but now she was crying silently, and gasping in little panicked breaths. Something else was wrong here. He didn't have time to figure it out, though. He called her name once, twice – and then finally saw some awareness return in her eyes. He took her hands. “Liz, get up! We have to leave now. The police are coming.”

She held onto his hands as they both stood. But she didn't make it all the way before her legs gave out and he had to hold her up. Under his own shock and alarm, he felt what he thought must be some of the turmoil Liz was feeling right now. It still didn't make sense, but it was clear she was reacting extremely strongly to what had just occurred. What she had just done.

“Can she move?”

Ressler looked at Reddington. Dembe was scanning their surroundings tensely, his weapon out. No one had arrived yet, but they were getting closer. “I don't know,” Ressler answered Liz's father. Liz was still leaning against him heavily, but he thought she might have regained her footing at least. “What's wrong with her? Is this all from-- because of what she--?” He couldn't even put it into words. It was impossible to consider.

“Donald. Whatever you may be thinking about her actions just now, I don't care.” Reddington's expression was hard. “If you want us all to have the luxury of thinking about it later, we need to get her out of here right now.”

That was undeniable. Liz shifted in his arms as Ressler started to move them further down the alley. She tried to face Reddington. “Red...?” Her voice was faint but audible. “I couldn't let him...”

The man didn't reply, or at least not out loud. Ressler managed to encourage her onward, though her progress was much slower than he'd like. The shouts of their pursuers were getting closer. He wasn't going to be able to run very far if he had to pick her up. “Come on, Liz,” he said, wondering if it was even worth it to try to reach her. “We have to move.”

Eventually, she sped up enough that the four of them made it to the car that was parked around the corner ahead of the police. Ressler did pretty much have to pick Liz up in order to get her into the vehicle – and the small part of him that was able to consider the future right now knew that would probably mean his back would be protesting tomorrow – but at least she was in it, and her seatbelt was buckled, and Dembe was speeding out of here. Reddington was in the front seat, though he turned to look at Liz a number of times.

“Liz,” Ressler said, as they started to leave the city behind, “can you hear me? Can you tell me if you're all right?”

At the sound of her name, Liz moved her gaze to his. But she said nothing, and her gaze quickly went unfocused again. She had stopped crying, but there were still tears in her eyes. She looked... He'd never seen her like this. Not ever.

“I need to know what's wrong with her,” he said after a few more seconds. He clenched his hands into fists. He was almost afraid to touch her, in case it sent her further into whatever awful place she was mentally right now.

Reddington sighed. When Ressler looked at him – really looked at him – he saw with yet more dismay that the older man didn't look entirely unlike his daughter right now, in terms of their expressions. “I-- I believe she's reliving a memory,” he said. “One that I'd hoped she never would have to experience again.”

Ressler thought about asking more questions, but decided against it. If this was such a terrible memory, as it clearly was based on how they both looked, then neither Reddington nor Liz would want to talk about it. He just hoped they would be able to bring her out of it without Liz having to suffer too much longer.

Minutes later, Dembe pulled in to an airfield where there was a single private jet waiting. Liz continued to need a lot of help from Ressler to get onto the plane, but at least they were less rushed so it didn't have to feel like he was dragging her up the stairs.

Reddington helped him seat her between the two of them. He started to call to her, not too loudly, but continually, in her mind. Ressler watched her face as the man did so. After a while, he saw awareness return again. She blinked, and another few tears ran down her cheeks. Then she turned to her father. “I remembered,” she said, in a voice barely above a whisper. “When I shot Connolly, I remembered.”

Ressler felt his breath catch at the impact of those words in Red's expression. The man looked – he almost looked broken. Defeated. But what he said was, “Do you want Donald here for this, Lizzie?”

Liz hesitated. She glanced at Red, then at Don, and then down into her lap. Shame and distress practically radiated off her. As much as he was disturbed by what she had done, it hurt him at least as much to see her like this. He didn't want to imagine what the shooting had made her remember. It didn't seem fair for some other trauma to be added onto what she had already experienced and known about in her life.

“It's not like I want to have secrets from you,” Liz said at last, meeting his eyes for a few seconds.

“Liz,” he replied, swallowing and glancing at Reddington himself, “you can tell me later. I know this has to do with your past. I-- I guess you have some things you have to work out together.”

She nodded, and asked if he'd be here when they were finished. He gave her a smile that he hoped was encouraging, and promised he would. Before he stepped away, he gently wiped a few of the tears off her face.

At the back of the plane wasn't really far enough away not to overhear some of what was being said between father and daughter. But Ressler tried not to eavesdrop. The only problem was, all he had to occupy his thoughts with, aside from wondering what Liz was telling Reddington, was how she had looked and acted when they were pinned down by Connolly's sniper. Connolly. The man was malicious and corrupt, there was no doubt, and a fugitive from justice. He had threatened Ressler's safety, not to mention Liz's and Reddington's. But that didn't come close to explaining how his partner could shoot him in cold blood.

As he tried desperately to begin the process of understanding this (he knew he wouldn't really, not until he talked to Liz), he couldn't help thinking of Connolly's words to him. He was compromised, utterly and irrevocably. He had known that already, and begun to make peace with it. But now … technically, now he was an accessory to murder. He hadn't stopped her. He hadn't believed she would go through with it, even after he saw the look in her eyes.

Don's bleak musings were interrupted by the sound of Liz beginning to sob in her seat next to Reddington in the front of the plane. He sat up, looking over the few other rows of seats to where they were. Reddington had his arms around her as she wept. But this wasn't just a normal bout of tears; he could hear Liz's breaths getting sharper and more desperate. She wasn't breathing. She was panicking. Don got to his feet, his heart starting to pound. Reddington had her. There was nothing he could do to help, even though being a bystander made his own chest ache. God. Whatever had motivated her to pull that trigger, no one could say she didn't understand the weight of it. Unless it was this memory Reddington said she might have relived that was bringing her so much distress now. Maybe it was both. The not knowing was about to force him to go to her.

At last, Liz's breathing started to sound less labored. She was calming. Ressler was eavesdropping shamelessly now, and he heard Reddington say, “If you're ready, I think Donald would like to reassure himself that you're all right.”

A second later, Liz told him telepathically that he didn't have to stay away. He took a step closer, and almost stopped. Strangely, his desire to go to her was not as clear as it had been just seconds ago, but he did, anyway. She and Reddington looked up at him. Reddington's face was calm, though that didn't disguise his fatigue. Liz looked absolutely exhausted.

“I guess, uh, that part of the crisis is over,” Liz said with a watery smile that didn't exactly convince him.

“Okay.” Ressler stood there, wishing he had a clue what to do next. The crisis itself wasn't anywhere near over, he knew. But he wasn't sure he was equipped to help his partner deal with this kind of devastation.

Reddington stood up, remarking that what Liz needed right now was rest. He said he'd go talk to the pilot, gave Liz a brief smile, and then looked at Ressler. _She needs you with her right now. I hope you can do that for her, despite your uncertainties._

Ressler didn't reply. The dragon walked toward the cockpit, and Ressler watched Liz watch him leave. Then she transferred her gaze to him. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't want to send you away.”

He tried to gather his thoughts. Reddington was right: the immediate need was to be with her. “Don't worry about that right now,” he said, sitting down next to her. “Just get some rest.”

It took her all of five seconds to fall asleep with her head pillowed on his shoulder. Careful not to disturb her, he moved his arm out from under her and wrapped it around her. The shaky, hitching breath she released almost undid him. He shut his own eyes. Maybe they could both get a little bit of rest before they reached their next destination.

To his faint surprise, Ressler slept until the soft sound of a door shutting woke him hours later. Dembe walked past from the back of the plane and mouthed an apology to him. Ressler shook his head slightly. He felt a little less exhausted, and Liz was still asleep. He looked down at her, at her tearstained, pale face and the way her brow was furrowed even in sleep, and his heart clenched. How had this been allowed to happen? He should have dragged her out of that alley as soon as the shooting started. He could have stopped all of this.

_This is not about your failure to protect Lizzie, Donald_ , came Reddington's voice as the man himself sat down across the aisle from them. He didn't look at them, but Ressler heard him sigh. _It's my failure, not yours._

Ressler couldn't think of anything to say in response to that. Though he was sure Reddington believed that with his whole heart, that was probably too simplistic of a way to look at the fault of the matter, too. But instead of trying to convince him of anything, Ressler asked silently where they were going and how long it would take to get there from here. Reddington informed him they were headed for Brazil, and that they were scheduled to arrive in about three hours. More details, he promised, would be forthcoming when Liz woke up to hear them.

They ended up traveling to an area near a national park. Red had somewhere to be, but he and Liz were ushered by Red's friend Rafael to a pleasant bungalow house that would be theirs for while they were in the country.

As soon as the door to the house closed behind them, Liz turned to look at Ressler. They were standing in the master bedroom, with a bed that would look very inviting if it weren't for how much they needed to clear the air. And Liz started right in with, “I killed the man I thought was my father. I was four. I saw him hurting my mother, and there was a gun. So I shot him.”

This was what she had been reliving after she killed Connolly. Don stared at her. “My God.” No wonder she had been almost catatonic.

Liz went on to tell him haltingly that her father had tried to make her forget, so that the little girl she had been wouldn't have to carry the weight of her deed. This in turn led to the highly disturbing revelation that there was a way for one dragon to influence the mind of another dragon: by forcing their way past the other's mental shield. And this was easier to do with a blood relation, especially with a very young child.

Ressler remembered all too well how agonizing it had been for him when David Kent had attacked him mentally. He could only begin to imagine what a dragon would feel – what Liz would have felt as a little girl. What Reddington must have felt, even. To do that to his own daughter … and right after such a traumatic incident... “Damn.” He sank down into the chair across from hers. “Holy shit. I don't even know what to say to that.”

“I know,” she said, with a bitter smile as her gaze fell away from his again. “On the off chance you didn't already think I was seriously fucked up.”

The pain in her words and on her face was enough to hurt his stomach. She clearly believed this judgment about herself. “That's not what I meant, Liz.” Then he thought back to how Reddington had looked and sounded on the plane, and voiced aloud his conclusion that her father was also broken up by what he had done.

Tears started to pour down her face as she agreed, and said she couldn't really even be angry at him. “I don't want to think about what he did, but...” She took a breath, and somehow managed to keep speaking without breaking down completely, confessing that what he had done didn't seem to matter to her as much as what she had done – twice in her life, now.

Though her anguish continued to make him want to do something, anything to take it away from her, now it was combined with his own heartache as he thought of Connolly's murder. It was reassuring, in a terrible way, that it was affecting her this much. But he needed more than that.

He started out by telling her what she had to already know: that what she had done to protect her mother when she was four years old was not and never could be murder. That didn't lessen its gravity, of course, but it had to make a difference. Then he gathered his thoughts and tried to hold himself together as he went on, “I know you're feeling awful, and I don't want to hurt you. But I really, really need to know why you shot Connolly.” He held his breath. If she didn't or couldn't answer in some way that he could understand, he didn't know what he would do. And that terrified him.

A storm of emotions passed across Liz's face, and she sat silently for several seconds. The only sound in the room was their uneven breathing. Then she raised her eyes to his face and said, “I know you do. I owe you that much.”

It was with almost alarmingly profound relief that Ressler listened as she outlined the telepathic taunts Connolly had been prodding her with, the whole time they were under siege in the alley. Of course. Of course a guy like that would take any opportunity to attack an opponent – especially when she was already so vulnerable. If he had only threatened her, she could have ignored that. But he had underestimated her driving urge, her need to do whatever she could to protect the people she cared about. Now Ressler knew why she had just kept repeating that Connolly couldn't be allowed to get away.

One she was done with her explanation, Liz seemed at a loss. She glanced at him, then looked away again. Her distress looked to have been lessened by telling him what had happened, but now she was in suspense for how he was going to respond. Ressler cleared his throat. It wasn't like what she had told him took away all of his qualms about Connolly's death, but he could reassure her at least somewhat. “I guess I don't know what I would have done in your place,” he began.

“You would have figured something else out,” she said, quietly but with confidence.

The face of Bobby Jonica passed through Ressler's thoughts. He swallowed. He had often wondered what would have happened if Liz hadn't been there that day in the woods. “I don't know, Liz,” he said. “I'm not sorry Connolly's dead, especially after hearing what he had planned.” He was still sorry he hadn't known what the bastard was doing to her. Maybe he could have stopped it from ending how it had ended.

Silence fell again, and Liz dropped her gaze to the floor. The droning of nighttime insects came in through the screened open windows. Another time, it might have been a soothing sound to hear.

Liz broke the silence. Not looking at him, she told him she wouldn't make him stay if he didn't want to. It took a few seconds for him to understand what she was saying. Then he got it: she was offering him an out, in case he was too disgusted by her actions to stay here. With her.

“Liz,” he said, standing up from the chair and taking a few steps toward her. This was how much she was torturing herself. “I've got nowhere else to be but here.”

At that, she flinched as if she had been slapped, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Yeah, well,” she gasped, “I'm sorry about that, too!”

As she shoved past him and went for her bag, Don watched her in bewilderment. “Liz? What did I say?” What had she thought he meant?

She had upended her bag onto the bed to find her phone. When she turned to face him, he saw nothing but grief in her tear-filled eyes. “If that's how you feel,” she said hoarsely, “then I need to call Red and ask him what the steps are to officially let you out of your contract with me.”

He gaped at her. “What?! What are you talking about?” Was she trying to send him away now? He had thought they were past this. “I just told you I wanted to stay!”

She shut her eyes, then dropped the phone onto the mattress and stared at him. “That's not what...” She trailed off, taking in a sharp breath. “I thought you said you had nowhere else to go. And I couldn't...”

_Oh._ Ressler shook his head. In retrospect, that had not been the best choice of words. He took another step toward her.

Clearly once again on the edge of breaking down into tears, Liz shakily told him that whatever happened, she couldn't live with herself if he was only staying with her out of obligation, or because he had no other choice. He hastened to assure her that was not what he had meant, and took her hand. “Look, I can't say I-- I feel good about what happened.”

“What I did.” She met his eyes squarely, though her voice shook.

“Yeah. I'm not leaving, though.” He twined his fingers through hers. “And it's not because of any contract I agreed to, or because you trapped me.”

Liz gave him a smile and a look so full of love and gratitude that it nearly took his breath away. “Okay. But … I'm sorry,” she said. Her smile faded. “For putting you through this. For however much that's worth.”

He told her it did mean something. “And I know you wanted to protect the people you care about. That's what you do.”

Liz made a little sound of surprise and said she had told Reddington on the plane almost the exact same thing about what he had done. Since Ressler didn't think any comments about “like father, like daughter” would go over well for either of them right now, he just let the moment pass.

At any rate, he thought, as Liz turned away to get ready to shower, they had had this all-important conversation, cleared the air … and though they hadn't worked through it all, he believed they could. And she seemed to, as well.

~


	4. Whatever You Become

~~~~~~

It wasn't exactly pleasant to endure another long plane trip so soon, but the upside of the seven-hour trip to Brazil was that after she woke up with about two more hours to go, Liz wasn't able to be in denial anymore about this being her life. That wasn't a cheerful thought, but she needed to start absorbing it, nonetheless. She still wasn't ready to think ahead to her own plans beyond Red's suggestions, but at least she was wondering about when she might be ready. That had to be better than nothing, didn't it?

Once she was awake, Red came over to sit in the seat across the aisle from them. He wasn't exactly tentative, although Liz could easily see that his emotions were still much closer to the surface than usual. “If you're feeling all right, Lizzie, I need to talk to you about your plans for our next destination. I need to visit Sao Paulo, and you're certainly welcome to see the sights if you wish. However, there's another destination that I prefer, when I have the chance, and I think you and Donald would both find it more relaxing than a crowded city, as interesting as they can be.”

“What kind of destination?” Liz asked. The idea of anywhere crowded right now did not appeal to her. She didn't want to face a lot of people.

“It's a national park, in the northeast of the country. It's very open, stunningly beautiful, and one of the park officials is a friend of mine. I have a standing invitation at the air field outside the park. Perhaps most importantly, he has provided me with inside information as to the areas farthest away from human eyes.”

Liz raised her eyebrows. “I see. That does sound promising.” Being able to stretch her wings after being inside a metal tube for hours on end was appealing. And maybe some flying – the real kind, on her own power – would put everything in a new perspective. “What do you think, Ressler?”

“I wasn't looking forward to crowds, actually,” he said. “So I'm okay with that if you are.”

Of course, if neither Red nor Dembe were there with her, that meant she and Don would be alone together. Which would necessitate them having a serious talk. She didn't exactly look forward to that, but she also couldn't begin to contemplate skipping it.

When she and Ressler discussed their destination more privately, before the plane landed, they agreed that this park sounded like something worth trying. “And if anything goes wrong, Red says there are cities nearby where we could go, instead.”

Ressler nodded. “I'll admit, though, part of the reason I'm leaning toward this place is that I can't imagine anyone looking for fugitives from D.C. there. Especially with one of the officials being a friend of Reddington.”

Liz swallowed. She wondered if she was now wanted by the police in Guatemala for murder. She had no idea how likely that was, but she would have to find out at some point. Instead of mentioning those worries, though, she purposefully lightened the topic. “Yeah. I think we'll be arriving at night, though, so I hope Red doesn't expect this to be a complete back-to-nature thing. I'd really prefer to sleep in some kind of house or hotel,” she said. “I've done the cave thing, and I gotta say, those memories aren't my favorite.”

Ressler blinked. “When did you sleep in a cave?”

She grimaced. “Did I not ever get around to telling you about my escape from Gordon Ambrose?” When he shook his head, eyes wide, she sighed. “Well, long story short, when I'd gotten away from his house and flown as far as I could, I landed somewhere where there happened to be a cave. And it was nighttime, so I slept there. Mostly, it was cold and not very comfortable.”

“That's not too surprising,” said her partner. “Maybe it depends on the cave, though. I mean, Lanneth seemed to like his.”

“True,” she said. She didn't feel like making Ressler even more alarmed by mentioning that her injuries had probably been the main reason she had been so uncomfortable in that cave. If it had been warm enough to stay in her dragon form, and she hadn't been hurt, it might have been fine. “Either way, I'm not going to go for that option first.”

“Me, neither,” Ressler agreed, with a wry smile that was almost normal, but not quite.

As it turned out, outside the park, once Red had introduced them to his friend Rafael, they were in fact escorted to a nice bungalow-type house. Liz wasn't sure if it was Rafael's, or whether it belonged to yet another friend. But Rafael insisted that they take the master bedroom. “You will be comfortable here. Make yourselves at home.”

Despite her continuing exhaustion, and the fact that she could tell Ressler was drained, as well, Liz only waited until they were alone in their room to start the conversation. She started right off with confessing the crime she'd committed at four years of age.

Don's face was pale when she'd told him. “Liz. My God.”

It seemed like his feelings were mostly sympathy at the moment. No doubt that was because he was focusing on the newer revelation. She drew an unsteady breath. “Red said he – he tried to make me forget, so I wouldn't have to... carry that, as a child.”

“ _Make_ you forget?” Ressler repeated, his brow furrowing. “That sounds like hypnosis, but you're a dragon. How's that possible?”

Liz sank into one of the chairs in the room. “Apparently, Red knew how to do it, anyway.” She explained about the strength of their link and her own vulnerability, once again focusing her attention on a spot where the wooden floorboards had a small gap between them.

Ressler was silent. When she chanced another look, his face was utterly aghast. Then he swore, quietly and with feeling, as he sat down in the chair opposite hers.

Liz smiled bitterly, her lips trembling. “I know. On the off chance you didn't already think I was seriously fucked up.”

“That's not what I meant, Liz,” he said, frowning. He gave her a pained look that faded to a more pensive expression. “But I heard... I mean, from what I thought I heard, your father's pretty broken up over this, too.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice cracking. Past the lump in her throat, she choked out, “Which is why I can't bring myself to be all that mad at him. I don't want to think about what he did, but...” She inhaled sharply. “Somehow it doesn't matter as much as what I did. Twice in my life now.”

Again, Ressler didn't speak right away. He sighed, and through the tears that she blinked away, she watched him scrub his face with his hands. Then he looked directly at her. “Liz, you have to know that a little girl shooting the man who was hurting her mother isn't murder. I know that. Reddington's got to know that, too, as much as he still wanted to keep you from the consequences.”

Then he blinked, and she saw tears run down his cheeks. “And I know you're feeling awful, and I don't want to hurt you. But I really, really need to know why you shot Connolly.”

Liz found that she had two simultaneous, opposite reactions. One was a surge of anger. Who did he think he was? Was it so easy for him to stop trusting her? Did he think she'd just snapped and killed someone? The other was a rush of grief and searing guilt at what she was putting him through. She loved him, and she had just made him watch her do something unspeakable – especially since he hadn't even heard Connolly's plans. For a moment, she fought between the two reactions, and it almost choked her.

But she already knew which one she would choose. Clasping her hands tightly together, she finally spoke. “I know you do,” she said, her voice low. “I owe you that much.” She sighed. She told him about Connolly's taunts after they'd reached the alley. “And it wasn't just that he was going to get away, that Red and I failed to stop him. He said – he said he'd take out Cooper and his wife first, no matter if he never got any support from the Cabal. He said they'd go to prison. And then he said he'd make sure the Cabal found Samar and sent her to Iran to been tried for murdering one of their scientists. And that Aram and everyone else would be targeted, too.” She gritted her teeth. “Even my nonprofit. Plus, he'd already made it clear what he was going to do to you, and I didn't even need to wonder what he would have planned for Red.” She closed her mouth. Her left hand touched the scar on her right, and she didn't know where to look.

Don wiped his face and cleared his throat. “I – I see.” He looked like he couldn't decide where to focus his gaze, either. “I guess I don't know what I would have done if I were in your place.”

Liz shook her head. Her smile this time was more sad than bitter. She was sure he would have found another way, and she told him so.

“I don't know, Liz,” he repeated. “I'm not sorry Connolly's dead, especially after hearing what he had planned.”

She wasn't surprised to hear that. Nor did she find it hard to imagine Don having killed Connolly in a shootout and not feeling remorseful after it. But that wasn't the same. Obviously. She stared back at the uneven floorboards. “Don. Do you still... I mean... You know that if you ever wanted to leave, I wouldn't make you stay with me.” Her stomach clenched, and she rubbed her scar again.

She heard his chair push back, and he came over to her. “Liz. I've got nowhere else to be but here.”

She jerked her head up to look into his face. Now she felt nauseated. “Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that, too!” She flung herself out of her chair, pushed past him, and went to look for her phone in her bag.

“What, Liz? What did I say?”

Even though she knew people's hearts couldn't literally break, it was hard to think of any other way to describe was she was feeling. She dashed the tears from her eyes again and faced him. “If that's how you feel, then I need to call Red and ask him what the steps are to officially let you out of your contract with me.”

“What are you talking about? I just told you I wanted to stay!”

She froze and shut her eyes, before gazing into his. “That's not what... I thought you said you had nowhere else to go.” She gulped. “And I couldn't...” She put her hand to her mouth for a minute, and tried to breathe. “Ressler, I don't know how I'm going to deal with this, but what I do know is that I couldn't live with myself if I thought you were staying out of some kind of obligation – or if you felt like you were trapped.”

“I'm not,” he said. “That's not what I meant.” He made as if to say something, changed his mind, and then took one of her hands lightly in his. “I can't say I – I feel good about what happened.”

“What I did,” Liz said, and her lip trembled again, but she held his gaze.

“Yeah.” But he didn't let go of her hand. “I'm not leaving, though. And it's not because of any contract I agreed to, or because you trapped me.”

Her heart fractured again, but this time it felt like it could be resetting itself. “Okay,” she whispered, and squeezed his hand. “But... I'm sorry. For putting you through this. For however much that's worth.”

A corner of his mouth lifted, and his expression was soft. “I don't know. It is something. And I know you wanted to protect the people you care about. That's what you do.”

Liz felt her eyes widen. She made a sound that would have been a laugh, under other circumstances. “That's what I told Red, about what he did. Almost exactly.”

Ressler raised his eyebrows. Then he shook his head, just slightly. “You know, I think I'm just not going to touch that.”

“Yeah,” she said. Deciding she was done thinking about all of this for the night, she ran a hand through her hair and made a face at the way it felt. “I think I'm going to go take a quick shower before bed.” She halted partway to the bathroom and faced him again. “Thank you. For... for listening.”

He nodded. “Thank you for talking to me.”

Despite her extreme fatigue, Liz didn't fall asleep until hours after her partner had reached unconsciousness beside her. When she closed her eyes, she saw the same images over and over – the images she'd seen on repeat already that day. Though the temperature in the room was pleasant, she shivered. The horror wasn't going to go away. She knew that. And as much as this particular point of commonality between them hurt them both, she could foresee many more talks with the one other person she knew who could help her through this.

Just as she had given up on getting any sleep, however, she must have dropped off. A knock at their door woke her the next morning. “Good morning!” called a voice that Liz hoped she recognized as Rafael's. “Sorry to disturb you. I just want you to know there is breakfast downstairs when you are ready.”

“Thanks,” Liz called. She looked to her right, where Don was still somehow asleep. Rafael's footsteps faded outside their door. She poked him. “Come on, Ressler. Apparently we're going to miss breakfast if we don't get up.”

Red had already left to meet whoever his contact was in Sao Paulo, Rafael informed them, but he also handed Liz a phone. “He told me to tell you to call any time. He must like you.”

Liz smiled tightly, but didn't reply. Rafael was very extroverted, and his English skills were excellent. He seemed to Liz more like a tour guide than a park official as he told the two of them in detail about the various sites in the park that were worth going to.

“Mr. Reddington said you were interested in his favorite place, as well?”

“We are,” said Liz. She wasn't sure, from the man's response, if he had any idea why either she or Red would find the area particularly interesting. She thought he might.

He glanced from her to Ressler, then nodded. “Great. If you're ready, I can take you close, and show you how to get the rest of the way there. I have food and water in the Jeep. If you need it.”

Red had been right about how beautiful the park was, Liz thought, as the Jeep drove farther away from the house. The rock formations reminded her a little of pictures she had seen of Utah, but this place was greener, less like a desert. Rafael pointed out flowers and creatures of interest when they passed, and Liz allowed herself to take in the feeling of peace that the park seemed to offer. It was a deep relief to learn that she could still feel peace, even if she knew it was temporary.

She came out of her reverie when Rafael announced that they had gone as far as he was going. “From here on out, it will be just you two. And before you ask, I assure you: I've only ever taken Mr. Reddington and his associate to this path, and every time I check when he's not here, it is quite deserted.”

Liz nodded. “Thank you.” She got out of the Jeep, and took one of the small packs of supplies that the man had provided. “That way?” She thought she saw the faintest of trails, and pointed in the direction it led. He confirmed it. She bit her lip, then decided to simply ask the question she had in mind. He could ask for clarification if she was wrong about what he knew. “How far would you recommend we go?”

“Oh, maybe a good half hour's hike, at least. Of course you're free to go farther if you would like. If it suits you, I can come back around dusk? Say, six o'clock?”

With that agreed upon, Liz and Ressler set out on the path. After a few minutes, with Rafael already having driven off, and nothing but the sounds of nature around them, Ressler remarked, “Well, even without us knowing exactly what to expect before we got here, I'll admit Reddington was right about this place being beautiful.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing,” said Liz. It wasn't yet noon, but it was already warm. She looked at Ressler, and revised her estimation – it must be actually hot, based on how much water he was drinking. She was merely comfortable, as usual. She raised an eyebrow. “I'm sorry to have to tell you, since you said you want to stay: whenever Red and I go our separate ways, when I settle down to whatever extent that's going to happen, I'm not likely to want to pick any climate much cooler than this one.”

Don capped his water bottle and smiled ruefully. “That much, I'd already started to guess. But I'd also already decided I can live with sweating a little if it means we have one less danger to worry about.”

She had mostly been thinking about how comfortable she was in hot weather, but he was right that avoiding anything like what had happened to her that winter many years ago was also a good idea. “This isn't that much worse than summer in D.C., is it?” Liz asked. “At least it isn't humid.”

“That is true,” he agreed. “And no, it's not bad. This is definitely not the rainforest part of the country.”

“What was your first clue?” Liz said, and grinned when he rolled his eyes. They could still joke together. Maybe they could do this.

About a half hour later, Liz checked her watch (which wasn't on the correct time zone, she realized, but probably the phone Red had left was). “I think it's been enough time. And I certainly don't sense anyone else around. Do you mind if I – ?”

“Not at all,” he told her.

She needed no second urging. She set down her pack and walked several paces away, then transformed. _Do you want to keep walking? I was going to head roughly the same direction as the path. Unless you happen to want to, um, go faster than walking, with me._

He laughed. “I'll let you know. But I'm going to stay on the ground for now.” He bent over and picked up her bag.

 _I'd keep carrying my own bag, but I'm pretty sure it won't fit anywhere,_ she said, apologetic again.

“Very convenient,” he said, and shouldered the pack. “And also true. So, go.” He waved a hand at her.

She snorted, and then took off. It took her a few minutes to get used to flying above such an open expanse of land. There were some trees, of course, and the land was far from flat. But it still felt more exposed than she was used to.

However, though she did check again to make sure she didn't sense anyone around except Ressler, eventually she decided it really was an uninhabited and basically unvisited area. She even wondered if Red might unofficially count the park as part of his territory. If it had been officially his, she was fairly certain she would know.

Liz flew on ahead and circled back a few times while her partner continued to walk. After about an hour, with the sun nearly at its zenith, she landed several yards away from him. _I can't be sure, but I think I see rain clouds on the horizon. Whatever kind of weather it is, it's coming this way._

Don raised his eyebrows, and wiped a hand across his forehead. “I thought Rafael said there wasn't usually a lot of rain here.”

 _Like I said, I'm not sure. I'm no expert. But they look like clouds, and they look dark._ She stretched out her wings completely, and then partially folded them. It had been a while since she'd spent this much time just exercising. She was starting to get tired, but in a good way.

“Fair enough,” said Ressler. “I guess if we don't know anything for sure yet, we could keep going for now.”

_It's not too hot for you?_

“I promise, I'll let you know,” he told her. “You're planning to hunt, right? For lunch?”

 _That was the plan,_ she said, _although I don't actually know what kind of prey there is here. I've mostly just seen rabbits and birds, and those are probably not worth the effort._

“Bummer,” said Ressler. “But there is enough food in these packs for both of us. I mean, if you're in human form.”

 _Good to know. I'm going to keep flying for a little while, though. Maybe I'll see something. Go ahead and eat if you're hungry._ She stretched again, then took to the air. From what she could tell, Ressler was looking for a place to sit and eat. Given the choice, Liz would prefer to hunt. And she would prefer not to eat her kill near her partner, no matter how understanding he was about it.

When she came back about another half hour later, full and hoping she had cleaned herself off reasonably well, Don didn't seem to have gone much farther down the path. He looked up at her approach, shading his eyes. Once she'd landed, he remarked, “So, you found something after all?”

She nodded. _I almost decided not to go for it. Seemed a little unfair. But on the other hand, I'm positive this is all protected land._

He gave her a quizzical look. “What are you saying?”

 _Let's just say, I think there'll be at least one rancher illegally using this land who's in for a surprise whenever he next counts his herd._ She didn't think she sounded very remorseful. And she wasn't, really. 

His eyes widened. “Herd of what?”

 _Cattle,_ she said. _Oh, and those black clouds are getting closer. You can probably see, if you look that way._ She flicked a wing back toward where she had come from.

Following her gesture, he squinted, and then blew out a breath. “Hmm. Yeah, that looks pretty grim. And I know what you said about caves, but I'm guessing you agree that some shelter would be better than none.”

 _For temporary shelter, I wouldn't have a problem with it,_ she said. _And there probably are some caves, or at least a few overhangs, that are big enough. But from what I saw, I'm pretty sure I'd have to carry you, to get you there before the rain hits. And even then, I'm not one hundred percent sure we'd make it._

“So, what do you suggest?”

 _Well, it's not cold. I don't get the feeling it'll get cold, even when it rains._ She had thought about this, but she honestly didn't know how Don would react. _And, uh, I'm pretty much waterproof, and then neither of us would have to go anywhere._

His mouth dropped open for a few seconds. “Liz. Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?”

 _Look, there's a kind of a ledge just over there,_ she said, glancing toward the area where the hill closest them jutted out slightly. _I wouldn't have to be totally unsheltered. And... and you wouldn't have to be, at all._

“Or you could transform, and we could both squeeze under that ledge and both risk getting a little wet,” he said.

 _I told you, I won't really get wet,_ she said. _Don, I'm not totally blind to the fact that it would be a little awkward. But it's not like we haven't, um, covered each other before. In a lot of ways._

Ressler laughed again, shaking his head. “Sure, but those ways aren't much like this.” He sighed. “Let's at least see how well we could both fit under there, with you in human form. Please?”

 _Fine,_ said Liz. She changed, and let him help her to her feet. They both walked over to the spot in question. “You first,” she said. “You're bigger. At the moment.”

He gave her a look, then ducked under the overhanging rock and squeezed in. Then he swore and backed out again, dusting himself off. “Turns out there's an ant nest in there. A big one.”

Liz winced. “Did you get bitten?”

“I don't think so,” said Ressler. He ran his hands over his arms and legs again. “I don't know much about the insects of Brazil, but I wouldn't want to guess how nasty these ones might be.”

“Yeah,” she said. There was a gust of wind just then, and Liz glanced up toward the sky. “Don, it's about to start pouring. Are you going to take the only option we have, or be stubborn and get soaked for no reason?”

Just to emphasize her point, she stepped back and transformed again (it was more comfortable to be in dragon form right after a successful hunt, anyway). Then, when he still didn't answer, she positioned herself next to the wall of rock, and then lay down with her left side almost up against it. Her right wing she kept unfurled and up, and she stared at Ressler, waiting. _Considering the jetlag, the exercise I just had, and then eating a big lunch, I'm about a minute away from falling asleep. And I'm guessing the rain won't change that, although I may not sleep quite as well if I'm worrying about you standing there, getting drenched._ She steadfastly refused to think that this had anything to do with him not trusting her. There was another gust of wind, and she started to hear drops fall.

Ressler sighed. “Okay,” he muttered. “Okay.” He got closer to her. “Should I – ?”

 _You can sit down, or lie down, whatever. Lean against me if you want. It won't bother me, either way._ Finally, he shook his head once more and then sat down next to her side. By this time, it was really raining, and she brought her wing down carefully until he was completely sheltered. Then she yawned, and lay her own head on the ground, curling slightly around him. _You okay, Ressler?_

“Um, yeah, I guess so,” he said, his voice muffled. “And you're not getting cold because of the rain?”

 _Nope,_ she assured him. _I don't think I'm trapping you, but wake me up if you need me to move and you can't._ The sound of the rain lulled her to sleep less than a minute later.

Someone calling her name brought her out of a surprisingly deep slumber. She blinked and raised her head. Ressler was standing there in front of her. He looked almost as groggy as she felt. _You slept, too?_

“Yeah,” he said, with a yawn of his own. “Damn jetlag. I woke up when the rain stopped, about twenty minutes ago. You were still pretty out, though.”

 _I still feel pretty out of it,_ she said. Then she slowly got to her feet. She was dripping, but she could barely feel the water as it ran off her. Wryly, she added, _Normally, I might think about a shower to try to energize myself, but I guess I just literally slept through one._

He smiled. “Guess so. I just thought you might not want to sleep for too long, if we both want to get any rest tonight.”

She nodded. _You're probably right._ She took several more steps away from the wall, out into full sunshine. _Looks like the weather cleared up completely._ Then she spread her wings and tilted them to allow the water to run off.

“Yeah. Ready to head back? We have plenty of time before Rafael was going to meet us, so we can take it slow.”

 _Sounds good,_ Liz told him. _Let me just make absolutely sure I don't see any signs of any other unexpected weather patterns._

~~~~~~

It wasn't until Rafael had driven them almost all the way back to the house that it occurred to Liz that she had no idea whether the rain had been enough to wash off all trace of her hunt that afternoon. Ressler hadn't said anything, but it was possible he was so used to it that he hadn't thought to mention anything. She tried to surreptitiously check her appearance in the Jeep's rearview mirror. All she could tell, though, was that her hair looked messy and there weren't any extremely obvious blood streaks on her face. Their guide hadn't commented, at least. Maybe she was fine.

“So, you enjoyed your day in the park?” Rafael asked.

“Yes, very much,” said Liz. “Thank you. It's more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

He beamed. “And you, Mr. Reily?” he asked Don, using the name they had given.

“I enjoyed it, too,” said Ressler. “Definitely a new experience for me.”

“A friend is cooking some dinner. I asked her to deliver it to the house soon,” Rafael said as they got out of the Jeep. “I only regret that this location makes it difficult for me to offer you authentic Brazilian steak. There is nothing like it in the world.”

Liz cleared her throat and exchanged glances with Ressler as she told him truthfully, “I'm sure you're right. But I'm sure what we eat tonight will be delicious, too.” She hoped it wasn't too enormous of a meal, since she had barely started to get hungry yet. In fact, she probably could go without any other food for that day.

Before dinner, Liz excused herself to change clothes, and Don agreed that was a good idea. In their room, Liz asked him quickly, “Do I have any – I mean, do you think Rafael saw any blood on me? I didn't even think about it until we were already almost back.”

His eyes traveled the length of her. “I don't think so. I think the rain washed off any that was left.”

Liz brought her hands up to examine them. They were clean enough to pass a quick inspection, although she would definitely wash them thoroughly before going back downstairs. Dropping them back to her sides, she shook her head. “I don't even know what he knows about Red, or might have guessed about me.”

“Well, if he knows anything, there's no way he'd spread it around, right?”

That was only too true. Liz decided she'd forget about it, unless something actually came up. As she washed her hands in their little sink, though, her mind decided to make an unwelcome connection between literal blood on her hands and the major secondary meaning of that phrase. Her breathing sped up, and though she fought against them, the images of Connolly and even the shadowy, fragmented memories from her childhood were too fresh and potent.

A knock at the door made her jump. “Liz? Are you okay in there? Rafael said dinner's ready.”

Liz realized she had no idea how long she'd been standing with her hands in the sink, water still running. She reached to turn off the faucet, and found it more difficult than she had expected due to how much her hands shook. “I – I'm fine.”

The door opened. It hadn't even been completely closed to begin with. “You sure?”

She dried her hands and turned around. “It's nothing.”

“Liz, you were running the water in there for five straight minutes. There's no way your hands were that dirty. I don't think it's nothing,” he said. He raised a hand to touch her cheek. “And you're white as a sheet.”

“Is... is something burning? It smells like there's smoke...” she asked, swallowing with difficulty. Or maybe it was gunpowder.

His expression went from worried to alarmed. “I don't smell anything, except maybe the food downstairs.”

But the mingled gunpowder and smoke scent didn't fade, even as she realized it was probably just in her head. “Oh. Right. Um, we don't want to miss that,” she said, trying to sound normal, to pretend the idea of eating felt possible. She hadn't even been that hungry before this – flashback, or freakout, or whatever it was.

“Okay, I'm going to walk with you over to the bed so you can sit, and then you're going to tell me what's wrong,” said Don. “Dinner can wait.”

She went with him numbly and sat down. “I don't know what it was, exactly,” she said, not meeting his eyes, though he sat close to her. “Something about the blood, I guess. I'm not going to suddenly freak out about killing animals and eating them now. Anyway, I sure hope not. There's a huge difference between that, and...”

“Not that I'm an expert,” said Ressler, when she didn't say anything else, “but I don't think you'll freak out about that, either. I think you're very aware of that difference, and you didn't have any kind of reaction until just now. Right?”

She nodded, still not looking at him. “Right.” Then she sighed, and scoffed faintly. “I thought I'd already done the dramatic transformation part of my life – I didn't think it could get more dramatic than turning into a creature that shouldn't even exist, you know? And now it feels like I'm turning into something else, yet again.” She crossed her arms over herself. “But this time there's nothing good about it.”

He didn't reply right away. “Maybe the good thing is that you have the chance to figure out how to keep going, even though nobody wanted this to happen.”

Liz turned toward him finally. He looked serious, but she could sense how much of it was him aching for her. She touched his hand lightly, then stood up. “We'll see. Anyway. Thanks. I do actually smell the food now. We should go eat.”

~~~~~~

Later, after a real shower, they were about to go to bed. Liz paused when she noticed Ressler watching her with a thoughtful expression. “What?”

“I was just thinking about today, and wondering again how you stand it.”

She frowned, pulling her oversized t-shirt on before turning to face him. “You're going to have to give me a little more than that.”

“We never talked about it, after Lanneth, but I remember you and Red saying that when you're in human form, you can't relax, like you're stuck inside something too small for you.” He took a few steps closer, and ran a hand gently down her arm. “That sounds really uncomfortable. I hate to think of you having to deal with that constantly on top of everything else right now.”

She smiled faintly. “I don't think about it, most of the time.”

“That's good, I guess,” he said. “But it's also a relief for you when you can be in your true shape. Right?” His expression was still serious, maybe even troubled.

“Yes,” she said. Then she brought her own hand up to his face. “That doesn't mean there's nothing good about this one, though. If I was ever stuck in my true shape, I'd really, really miss being able to do this,” she went on, pausing to kiss him soundly, and wondering if he could tell how relieved she was that he responded, “and this.” She pulled him closer and then kissed him again.

He stroked his hand through her hair when they broke apart. “I'd really miss that, too.”

“And what about you, today?” she asked quietly, still inches away from his face. “During the rainstorm? You didn't have much of a choice, but I swear I wasn't trying to freak you out.” Even more than I already have, she added to herself.

“I know that,” he said. He met her eyes, and then smiled, looking somewhat embarrassed. “And once I stopped thinking about mother hens and chicks, it turned out I was fine.”

She couldn't help cracking up at that. “Oh my God, seriously? That was your main issue?”

He was blushing. “Pretty much.”

She sobered quickly. “I thought... maybe it was just that you don't usually like to be that close to the dragon version of me.”

His eyes widened. “No!” He swallowed. “Liz, no. I'm sorry if I've made you think that.”

“I don't blame you,” she said, glancing away. “I always figured there must be some kind of instinctive reaction going on.”

He still looked pained when she looked back at him. “Maybe there was, at first. But it was never fear.” Her face must have shown her skepticism. “I mean it. There was definitely awe. Maybe a little nervousness. But I know you would never hurt me – any version of you.”

Liz sniffed, and blinked back a few tears. “I'm glad.”

“I guess I haven't shown that very well, though, if you still thought I might be afraid for my safety with you,” he said.

She managed a watery laugh. “Well, I guess I must not have done a very good job of showing you how much it is absolutely not a trial to be with you, no matter what shape I'm in. So we're even.”

It was his turn to pull her closer and kiss her.

“But speaking of not telling you things,” she said, when they came up for air, “there are a few more things you should know, about what Red told me, the night we ran.”

“All right,” he said, catching his breath and looking concerned.

Haltingly, Liz explained about her mother. It was the first time she had said these things aloud, and it was only the fact that he already knew worse about her that allowed her to finish. “Red seems to think the suspicion of treason, at least, might blow over someday for lack of evidence. I'm not as confident.”

“I think he's got a point,” said Ressler. “Anyone who really knows you can't doubt your loyalty.”

She had to kiss him again, after that. He responded eagerly. She didn't know what she had done to deserve him, but she was fiercely glad he was with her. And she intended to make sure he knew that.

Perhaps there would be a time when she and Don could feel grateful that this kind of thing hadn't happened before. But Liz knew that would take a while. She and her partner had just made it to the bed, and he was in the process of taking off her shirt, when she froze and pulled away. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she panted.

“What?” Ressler asked, baffled.

“Red,” she said, her face already burning. _This better be serious, Red._

 _My apologies,_ came her father's voice, and Liz knew it was directed to both of them. _Dembe and I will be there in about thirty minutes, and I'm afraid it's urgent that we all leave immediately at that point._

“Oh my God,” Don groaned.

“Yeah,” she agreed, scooting to the edge of the bed and trying to focus. _Are we in danger?_

 _If we leave within the hour, the risk is minimal,_ said Red. _I'll explain more in person._

It still took them slightly longer to switch gears than it might have under other circumstances. But both of them were dressed, packed, and downstairs by the time Red and Dembe came in.

“Lizzie, Donald. We'll have to skip any pleasantries. The plane is waiting for us.” His face was unreadable, but Liz still found it difficult to meet his eyes.

There was a Jeep outside with its engine running, and the four of them got in. Liz waited until they had pulled away from the house before clearing her throat and asking, “So, what's going on?”

“I received a tip this evening that there was an increased Interpol presence in some of the larger cities here. I wasn't able to determine with certainty whether or not I am the reason, or you, Lizzie, but since I couldn't rule it out, here we are.”

 _And you didn't think calling might be better?_ Liz said privately. It certainly would have been less intrusive. And she was extra sensitive to him intruding right now, having just learned what he'd done to her so many years ago.

 _You didn't answer your phone, Lizzie,_ he said, tone neutral. She wondered if he had made the same connection between this moment and what he'd told her about pushing past her shield. _Once I contacted you telepathically, I saw why, and I would normally have no desire to interrupt you and Donald reconnecting. But the matter was truly urgent._

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. At least he had chosen to minimize the awkwardness, rather than maximize it as he could have. _Fine, I get it._ That didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

They were silent until they reached the airfield, left the Jeep, and boarded the plane. Just as Liz and Ressler were settling themselves in, Red said, “I meant to ask: what did you both think of the park?”

Liz raised an eyebrow, but told him, “It was beautiful. It was really nice to be somewhere so open and peaceful.”

“I take it you took advantage of the chance to fly?”

“Of course,” she said.

“And did you, Donald?” he asked.

Ressler scoffed. “No. Hiking was good enough for me.”

Red just nodded, then stood and went to speak to Dembe for several minutes.

Liz met Don's eyes. “I talked to him a little in the car. He was just as willing not to talk about it as I was, so I think I'm going to leave it at that.”

Don sighed. “Yeah, let's just do that.”

“I should be more grateful that we're escaping from possible arrest, but I just keep thinking that I'm not even close to tired yet, and there's one perfect activity that we could be doing until we're tired, if we were somewhere private,” she said, in a very low voice.

He gave her a mock glare. “Not helpful.”

As the jet took them to yet another destination, Liz thought back to the earth-shattering events of the past few days. At this point, she didn't think she could either expect or perhaps even deserve a settled, normal life. But in spite of everything she had experienced and still had to learn to deal with, she thought this existence might turn out to be all right, which was better than she could have hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is such a fun AU to write.  
> I guess we've pretty much finished what canon the show has given us so far, but we do still have more to this story.


End file.
